Stripped Bare and Scrubbed Clean
by smolder
Summary: "Even as she blinks and sputters, Cinderella, is pulled tripping out of the tub and patted dry by towels."


Disclaimer: I own nothing. Cinderella is owned by Disney.  
Prompt:

___Prompt: Not a huge fan of Cinderella 3, BUT the king mentions that the prince will marry Cinderella that same night, right? That means that Cinderella is whisked away to be prepared for her wedding (and her wedding night!). Basically, the maids having to get her ready in a time crunch, and super!mortified Cindy being scrubbed, perfumed, lotioned, shaved, measured for her dress and undergarments (let's face it, her old ones ae probably crappy hand-me-downs) and anything else you can think of._

* * *

_Magic_, Cinderella thinks for a split second. She is familiar with such things - and the King's words seem a spell even onto themselves. Pronouncements capable of making such change in people's lives.

As they do in hers - she is to be married! To Prince Charming! Before it was but a _fantasy_, a lovely dream. But his very words make it _real_.

And Cinderella doesn't have time to let it sink in, doesn't have time to even breathe before she is whisked away. Not by her dear Prince, but a no nonsense looking woman (_whose hair, twisted into a bun at the base of her skull blends blonde with grey_) has a firm grip on her arm. And, dazed, she allows herself to be towed.

"This way, My Lady," the woman murmurs (_a maid, then? She does not know_) pulls her into a steamy room. There are more plainly dressed women with firm, almost grim expressions on their faces inside.

"Alright now," the one who brought her addresses the group. "We don't have much time - so no dilly dallying. There is much work to be done." All eyes turn to her at this statement but she still does not understand. Is there something she is supposed to do?

It is only when her clothes have been removed with such quick, efficient movements that they are in a pile on the floor before she can pulls away with a startled screech of protest that she begins to get the idea.

But the Head Maid is having none of it. "We have neither the time or the interest to indulge your silly fantasy of propriety, girl," she says looking thoroughly unimpressed with her wasting even more time, instead reaching for her breastband.

But Cinderella dances away, blushing violently. "I-I can undress myself," she glances over at the steaming water, only now realizing what it means. "I can bathe myself. I always have."

"No you _can't_, girl," the woman insists and the hard lines of her face soften momentarily making her look almost kind for a moment despite her words. "You have no idea how much must be done before this blasted wedding. I understand you have lived Common - and I don't see that as a bad thing," she assures when Cinderella automatically looks down in embarrassment.

"I think it is good that our future Queen has known hard work. But what you haven't known is _this_ life. There is so much that was glossed over for you in that first Ball with all that..._magic_. So much that we must now do _by hand_. Do you understand? Just let us do our jobs, Lady."

"If it makes you feel better just think of us as Fairies, Lady," one of the younger maids - a skinny freckled girl pipes up, smiling tentatively.

"No," Cinderella whispers and the smile on the girls face falters. "No," she says stronger, coming to a decisions, uncrossing her arms and turning to look at the head maid. "You are human and doing this by hand, through hard work - it is silly of me to stop you from doing your job."

She can almost swear that the woman smiles at her before her face becomes the no-nonsense mask again. And Cinderella is swiftly stripped bare and a group of women sweep in to measure her before running out of the room. Than a whole other set take measurements that make her bite her lip and squeak again at the utter impropriety.

The lady with the tape measure looks up at the sound, raising an amused eyebrow. "Well, you didn't think you'd be putting on those dirty undergarments ever again, did you?"

"I washed them," she says - even though she knows it is a feeble defense. All the washing in the world couldn't help those hard worn hand me downs.

"I'm sure you did, dear. But you're Royalty now. Have some perks," and the bushy haired woman pats her bare thigh before leaving. (Cinderella just whimpers, and wonders when this will end.)

She pays for her distraction when hands on both arms are her only warning before she is propelled into hot water and immediately set upon by many other hands. Some are massaging soap into her hair with strong fingers, others wield brushes on her body that are almost rough. Cinderella thinks she would feel violated by this if they weren't all so very matter-of-fact. She is still intensely embarrassed (her blush has never gone away) but she can almost calm down, not quite enjoy this, but relax...

...until she sees the blades two bring out. With a gasp she curls in on herself.

"What?" she asks, trying to stand but having trouble in the slippery pool.

The head maid looks confused for a moment - then glances to the blades and back and appears irritated. "You are to be shaved, girl. Haven't you ever...no, of course you haven't," she mutters, seeming to remember Cinderella's background. Her lip quirks for a moment though, "I suppose your step-sisters never had reason to indulge in this practice then."

"What?" she asks again, but calmer this time since it seems she is not to be attacked.

"You are to be shaved, girl. Your legs," she explains further when Cinderella seems not to understand. "Just stay still and it will be fine, Jenny and Margret know what they're doing," the two in question grin conspiratorially at her and the small friendliness is a comfort. Makes her relax, uncurl, and offer her leg back out tentatively.

As she watches fascinated, they soap her up with a foamy substance and shave her carefully, whipping the blade clean every few moments. When they are done she is quickly urged to stand and a bucket of clean water is dumped over her, to rinse off.

Even as she blinks and sputters, Cinderella, is pulled tripping out of the tub and patted dry by towels. Pushed into a seat, lotion is immediately rubbed into her skin as she feels a pull at her hair. It is subsequently being rubbed dry as well, then brushed and styled.

And she is too - styled that is, after the lotion a brand new set of women with paints come in front of her they trace her eyes with darker colors, and apply pink to her cheeks, redness to her lips.

Clothes are brought in then and she is in awe of the undergarments, doesn't event feel like she should touch them. It is almost better that others bustle her into them, taking care of all of those tiny buttons in the process, she would not have felt worthy.

And that does not even come close to her feelings upon seeing her wedding gown - only a sharp look from the lady who took such pains over her make up hold back the tears.

When it is all done she stands in front of a mirror, utterly stunned.

"I - I look beautiful," she says surprised.

Turning Cinderella goes to hug the Head Maid. "Don't you dare," she is warned a finger shook sternly at her, like she is a naughty child. "I'm wet from your bath and if you dirty yourself now after all our hard work I'll turn a switch to you. Princess or not," but that illusive smile is lurking again.

"Thank you," she says instead, looking over all the faces of the women smiling at her, the women who had made this possible for her. "_Thank you_."

"Aww, get now, you have a Prince to marry," another woman shoos her.

And with a last grateful smile, she turns and runs (or walks as swiftly as the dress and heels will allow without messing them up) out the door.

"I think we have a good one there," the Head Maid murmurs once she is gone.

"Aye," says the seamstress. "Poor girl was more than a mite embarrassed but didn't want to trouble us any."

"I still rather, she'd of went along with my idea and just thought of us as fairies," the youngest says, kicking a wet towel on the floor absentmindedly.

"That's hardly a surprise - you always say you'd rather be a fairy," the girl beside her admonishes with a grin.

"Well," the Head Maid claps her hands bringing them all to attention. "If we're quick about getting this room to rights we'll have a bit of time to run home, pull on a pretty frock, and attend the Wedding," she grinned conspiratorially, "You know I really _must_ catch a glimpse of the Prince's face when he sees her like that. I think we out did ourselves this time."

There are murmurs of agreement and the women set to work.


End file.
